It All Boils Down
by TheObsessiveFang
Summary: Past and present, what they've been through makes them realize one thing. Collection of oneshots. GinRan, UlquiHime, IchiRuki, and maybe some other couples tossed in there later on.
1. Alive

So I keep lying awake at every night thinking about my favorite Bleach couples. I swear that's what makes me stay up 'til 5 am (try explaining that to a suspicious mother ;P). I finally decided to sit down and spill all my little romantical ideas into a multi-couple bunch-of-one-shots fic. I've had these things saved on my computer for days now 8K

Couples including (eventually…they aren't alternating in a pattern at all):

GinRan- This is by far the most complicated relationship I've ever seen in any anime or manga. I'd be lucky to capture an ounce of it in my writing.

UlquiHime- Orihime by herself is a useless load of…well, I'll stop there (sorry fans x[), but I love this couple.

IchiRuki- It's just cute :3

And maybe a little bit of something else tossed in there occasionally:/ -really has no clue what she's doing- Anyways, I'll attempt to cut down my annoyingly long a/ns starting now o.o;

* * *

**It All Boils Down **

_Alive__- __UlquiHime_

Every sound made in those oversized empty hallways of Las Noches echoed for eternity. Ulquiorra, fourth Espada, knew this well. Though by looking at his demeanor, you would never be able to guess how much this fact bothered him. Every day, at least three times a day, he was forced to walk side-by-side a lowly arrancar and deliver Aizen's prisoner food. As if playing babysitter wasn't enough, listening to the terrible racket of clanging plates and trays bounce off every surface of the hallways drove him to the point of insanity.

But the Espada wasn't stupid. Nor was he a whiner. Or much of a talker at all, actually. That's why Ulquiorra Schiffer pursed his lips and walked the same path to the same room without uttering a single word of protest.

Orihime Inoue was that prisoner in that room down that path. And while the Espada seemed to loathe his visits, they were her only relief from the air in her room that reeked of loneliness in depression. Even if he was her captor, he was a person. Any person was better than a wall.

He entered silently. It was a routine they both knew by now. The cart was rolled to her. She took her plates and ate, not out of fear of being forced to, like he liked to think, but just to have the chance to keep him there as long as possible.

They didn't talk to each other. They usually never did. Yet they were both strangely happier during those ten or fifteen minutes than they ever were during the rest of their days. They both thought about this during that particular dinner, and strangely enough through a full session of intellectual reasoning came to the same conclusion as to why this was.

Both presences, Arrancar or human, evil or good, shared a common factor. And that factor more than anything else drew them unknowingly to each other.

It was the fact, they realized, that they were both alive.


	2. Reward Enough

Hm. Very short for me xD –not used to writing these things- The title of the fic will end up being explained in the very final one shot…whenever that is. I'd like to point out that none of these will be chronological.

Hooray for the attack of the fluffiness:P

* * *

_Reward Enough__- __GinRan_

Their house was small, rundown, freezing in the winter, and blistering hot in the summer. But being two children from Rukongai, having a place to stay, just the two of them, was the jackpot of luck. No one ever tried to take it from them, even if they could find it. Gin was the kind of boy clever enough to find just the perfect location. Nestled in a small grassy field surrounded by nothing but trees, it took a real explorer to stumble upon it.

Rangiku loved the house because to her, it was the in most beautiful place on earth. She could walk to a stream and swim, catch fish, or discover shiny pebbles on the sandy bottom. She could endlessly chase butterflies, pick flowers, or climb a tree. They were all things she had never done or seen before Gin had come. It just added to the pile of things she owed him for. A growing pile Rangiku was becoming painfully aware of.

Not only did he save her life, an unpayable debt alone, but he gave her this home and was her friend. He protected for her, provided for her, risked his life to steal for her, leaving her home just to…play. While attempting to do housework one day, she suddenly realized that something had to be done, before it ate her completely from the inside out. Yet as hard as she tried, she really couldn't think of a thing to do for him.

When Gin came home, he found her sitting at the table, eyes glued downwards and mouth stuck in a frown.

"What's tha' matter, Rangiku?" he asked. It bothered him to not see her so…peppy like she usually was. When she looked up at him her lip trembled slightly and tears began to gather in the corner of her eyes.

"I don't get why you're doing this for such a horrible person like me!" she blurted, eyes wide and swimming with sadness and confusion.

"What d'ya mean?" His smile drooped, tight and straight in worry.

"You do everything in the world for me, but I don't return any of it! How am I supposed to live with myself that way, Gin? You can't expect me to be a pampered princess! What about you? How is that fair to you?" A tear rolled down a perfect porcelain cheek. Even when crying, she was beautiful, he noticed.

"Hm. Well," he rested his chin on his long-fingered hand, "Ya smile n' laugh, which makes me feel good when I come home an' some guy gave me a' hard time. Ya' make sure no one comes n' takes the house when I'm out gettin' stuff for us. Ya' tell me stories when I'm bored n' ya keep me company at night n' stuff. Ya' also make pretty good food, too," he was grinning again, turning something meaningful into something playful, like always.

She sniffled. "But that's not even worth acknowledging! The stuff you do is so much more…useful! I don't put my life on the line to tell you stories!"

He thought for a moment, then brushed strand of her short hair out of her face and opened his eyes to look into hers- something he did in those rare moments when Gin was dead serious. It made her stop and stare back. Rangiku loved to see his eyes.

"Your comp'ny is reward 'nough, Ran-chan. Your comp'ny is reward 'nough"


	3. Price Of Innocence

_Price __Of__Innocence- __GinRan_

In the time following Rangiku's rescue by Gin, she doted on him every moment she could. Every word he said, she trusted wholeheartedly. Every favor he asked, she did happily, no questions asked. When he looked troubled, she cheered him up. When he was cold, she couldn't be less willing to offer him her blanket (which he declined). They were young, but despite being just kids, no more than eleven, Gin was definitely not naïve. He was very well aware of how things worked in the real world. Rangiku, however, wasn't. She was innocent. Gin loved this innocence, and envied it. If only he didn't have to worry as much as she.

There came a point when finding something to steal became next to impossible. Meals were scarce and meager, and Gin only worried more about himself and his companion. It was becoming harder and harder to keep them alive. Rangiku knew this and nearly starved herself trying to give her food to Gin. Anything to get things back to the way they were. Anything.

But anything came at a cost.

Desperate, she snuck out and went into Rukongai. Having absolutely no talent at taking things yet, she resorted to pitiful begging. Gin always told her she was pretty. So wouldn't people take pity on her?

A greasy but apparently wealthier man approached her soon, offering her a lot of money. Reinforcing this offer, he held out a handful of coins. Her eyes widened and sparkled.

"Really? Would you give that to us?" She was beyond elated, only thinking of seeing the happiness on Gin's face. He grinned, leaning down to whisper something in her ear. His words made her frown a bit, but she looked at the money, then at him, then down at her empty stomach and nodded.

When Rangiku returned to their home, she burst in with a wide smile on her face, holding out her money proudly. Gin was shocked at the sum, then suspicious. He had never taught small and cheery Rangiku any dirty tricks that he used to get money…and he never even got that much.

"Ran-chan, how 'zactly did ya' get tha' money?" He weighed the coins in his hands, not denying he liked the jingling sound.

"Well, this guy told me he'd give me all of it if I played games with him" She was still smiling, cheeks rosy from excitement. Gin froze, suddenly feeling extremely cold and numb.

"…Ran, what kind o' games?" He opened his eyes, but they weren't sincere like they usually were when he showed them. They were angry and piercing. Her smile dropped and her gaze lowered to her feet.

"…just games. You know, without clothes n' stuff" Her head snapped up when she heard her coins being thrown against the wall, flying everywhere. One rather large one struck her in the arm and she fell to the floor holding the limb against her body.

When she looked up, Gin was furious. His breaths came rough and uneven, and his grin was almost…bloodthirsty. She had never seen anything like that before.

"…Gin?" Her tiny voice squeaked, fearing for herself and her friend. That innocence…despite what she had done, the way she was still so oblivious made him frustrated. Thinking rashly and out of anger, he slapped her across the cheek and disappeared into the back part of the house, hearing her burst into tears in the kitchen.

Gin didn't come out for four days. Rangiku cried every one of those days.

In that time, he thought more than ever before. He regretted how he acted towards his friend, realizing that it wasn't her he was mad at. It was him.

He was mad at himself for not being able to do enough for them, forcing her to resort to doing such things. He was mad at himself for not being able to protect her. And he was mad at himself for hoping somewhere deep inside him, dreaming selfishly that the only person his Ran-chan would lose her innocence to would be him.

It was in that that he realized he was no better than that man off the street, craving for something so sweet and good and wishing to ruin it. She was his friend, the one who understood him. How he could be capable of thinking those things made him the angriest of all.

He had lost his pride. He had lost his dream. But mostly importantly, she had lost her innocence.

And that was the worst price of them all.

* * *

I'm sorry if this chapter seemed a bit crude and gross. I was a bit reluctant to post it at first, but I really like the moral of this oneshot so I decided to go for it anyways. 


	4. Hair

Hm. Not Much to say. That's a shocker. I'm going to be posting many UlquiHimes and GinRans today because I have already written a crapload of them up. I'll try to work on IchiRuki next 8)

_Hair- __UlquiHime_

The air was extremely tense one day as Orihime stabbed a fork casually into her spaghetti, once again trying to prolong her guard's visit. This made her nervous and jumpy, nearly knocking over everything in front of her at the slightest sound. She hated negative feelings, despite who they were coming from. Perhaps that's why optimism was once of her greatest strengths.

_Ulquiorra-sama__ is upset. __Probably because of __Aizen-sama__Hai__…that's it.__Hard day at work.__ Doesn't that happen to most people? Even if he isn't a lawyer or a doctor or a football playing astronaut in sp- wait __Hime__! You're rambling again._ She sighed quietly and chewed on bread. Ulquiorra looked at her from his spot by the door, hands still deep within the folds of his hakama.

_Ulquiorra-sama__ can be upset if he likes. __Onii-chan__ was__ like that sometimes on rough days. But I always used to cheer him u-_

Completely lost in though, Orihime set her wrist on the edge of the plate, causing it to flip upwards and catapult her pasta all down her front. She groaned sadly, worried for the dress more than anything. As a girl who had done her own laundry for years, she knew spaghetti sauce and white fabric was the worst combination ever. Not to mention it was all over her arms…her neck…falling onto her legs.

"Eh heh heh…gomen Ulquiorra-sama," she laughed nervously, rubbing a hand on the back of her head. "Please wait here and let me take a quick wash so that I can return and clean this and continue eating"

He looked at her again, only grunting. She ran into the washroom, cape flapping. Disposing of her ruined clothes, she lay in her bath long enough to scrub her skin and wash her hair. Without an extra pair of clothes, Orihime emerged only in a towel, which was wrapped tightly around herself to make sure it didn't fall. She never really worried about exposing herself in front of guys, hardly even aware of herself and what most guys…thought of her.

But instead of a mess she found a spotless floor and a new plate of spaghetti. Ulquiorra was back in his spot, remaining in his statue state.

"Eep! Ulquiorra-sama, you cleaned up my spill?" A light blush spread on her cheeks, embarrassed that he be forced to do such a thing. After all, she still had housewife pride. "I could've done it myself!" She waved her hand indignantly.

Ignoring her petty protests, Ulquiorra furrowed his eyebrows and frowned moreso than usual. The air grew heavier. He was displeased, and Orihime had a strange feeling that she had done something very wrong.

It took him but three long strides to close the distance between them, leaving only a few feet to spare. Silence descended on the room. Only the water dripping from her skin could be heard, collecting in a pool at her feet.

"Gomen. Would you like me to finish drying off? I know I'm getting water on the floor any everythi-"

"I don't like your hair like that" He said bluntly, interrupting her. Orihime looked confused, both at the fact he spoke and what he spoke about.

"Like what? Wet?" She asked, putting a finger to her bottom lip. "See I didn't have to wash it exactly but it had been so lon-"

"It's brown. And flat. It doesn't suit you" It was a statement and a fact, coming from him. Not just an opinion.

She laughed again, nervous. "Well all hair turns brown when you get it wet. When it's dry it'll be orange again"

"I see" He turned quickly, coattail flying, and glided out the door silently, leaving a surprised and dripping Orihime in the middle of the floor still in her towel.

When she woke the next day and walked into the washroom to freshen up, she found a hair dryer on a new set of clothes with a note.

**You are to use this whenever done bathing. Do emerge from this room without dry hair or next time I will cut it off. That is a promis****e**

She knew who it was from, and knew just as well that the threat was an idle one.

"Wow," she mused, smiling softly, "I never thought he liked my hair that much"


	5. What Is Love?

_What Is Love__?-__GinRan_

It was a cool and breezy night. The moon was full, the sky was clear, and everything everywhere was alive. Especially Rangiku.

"C'mon Gin! It's so nice outside. And you never go outside!" She grabbed him by his pale hand, rather full pink bottom lip protruding in a pout. Gin hated when she did that, though he'd never tell her. He always hated seeing her sad, fake or not.

"Not true, Ran. I go outside ev'ry day an' get us stuff" He pulled back gently, knowing if this was real tug-of-war, she would lose in a matter of seconds.

"That's _work,_ stupid. This is…is…enjoyment! Do you even know what that means?" She stubbornly tugged. Gin decided to let her.

"O' course I know what enjoyment is, Ran. But I'm feelin' tired an' I gotta sleep f'r tomorrow"

"Please? One night?" She sniffed for dramatic effect.

"…Fine" He would've said yes a thousand times to see her face light up like it did.

Rangiku led him away by one hand, dashing across the grass and to her stream. She sat between two large roots of an oak tree by the water's edge, then patted the spot next to her for him to sit on. He complied.

He watched as she slipped her bare foot into the flowing water, shivering at the temperature. He watched as she leaned her head back softly against the bark, closing her eyes and sighing contentedly before humming a soft tune. He watched as she never stopped smiling, and noticed the way the moonlight gave her a warm white glow. If Gin believed in angels, then that would be the word that described Rangiku.

"Gin?" she asked softly, opening her eyes for a moment just to peek and make sure he was still there.

"Yep?"

"What is love?" He stared at her hard for moment, a bit surprised by the question. Then he became confused by it. He knew what it was, sort of. But even if he was an expert at it, it was the kind of thing he could never put into words, just like Rangiku.

"Why?" He finally asked, trying to avoid answering it.

"Well. When you took me to Rukongai one time, there was this lady and this guy and he told her he loved her. But I don't know what that means. Is it a good thing?" She shifted on the wood and looked at him, expecting his reply.

"Well I dunno how 'zactly ta' explain it, Ran. But, here, close your eyes an' I'll show ya'" She followed his order and waited, twitching in anticipation. Gin slowly leaned forward and softly placed his lips upon hers, something he'd always wondered about. She was better than he imagined. He withdrew after only a moment, grimly expecting her reaction.

It was silent for a few moments. Only the crickets talked.

"Gin?"

"Yep?" He asked, balancing a twig between two fingers.

"I like love"


	6. Flavor

_Flavor- __IchiRuki_

Ichigo Kurosaki sat on his bed and looked down where Rukia Kuchiki was laying on her stomach atop his floor. An open book of manga lay before her, two other stacks on either side- those read and those to be read. Kon stayed with her loyally, turning the pages whenever her head nodded. She, meanwhile, stuck her hand into her candy bag. It was this more than anything that intrigued him.

No matter how many times she read manga like that on his floor, and boy did she do that a lot, whenever candy was involved, Rukia had a very strange habit. Lollipops, sour candies, sugar balls…whatever it was, she would purposely sift through every flavor and only eat one kind.

Pink. Strawberry.

"Why do you do that?" He asked her finally, unable to come up with an answer on his own.

"Do…what?" she replied, eyes still on the book. A hand reached for a few candies, and as expected she ate two strawberries and tossed the other few into the wastebasket.

"That," He pointed.

"Eat? Well you see Ichigo, it's a bodily function in which the body requires nutrients to help it go. This is attained through-" Her voice was slow an rhythmic, mocking a teacher's.

"I know what eating is you freakin' idiot! I was talking about the way you only eat one type of candy and throw the rest away. What's with that? It's a waste of money and good food," he rolled his eyes and leaned his head forward to rest on one knee. Rukia looked at him with one eyebrow lifted underneath her bangs.

"I never noticed I did, really. I guess that would be because that's the only human flavor I like. Can't it be that simple?" She shrugged and returned to her manga.

"Why buy things with other flavors in it too, then? Just get a bag of strawberry candies" His leg swayed over the edge of the bed.

"It's not the same that way. It takes away the…meaning," Rukia sighed, closing the back the current volume and reaching for a new one.

"How the hell can there be meaning to _eating?_ God Rukia, I swear. You're going farther off the deep end every day," Ichigo shook his head and made a grab for the bag. She snatched it away before he could reach.

"Well thanks for questioning my sanity. That means a lot coming from someone who is _possessed," _her voice drowned in sarcasm and this time she rolled her eyes, "look at it more…profoundly if you can. Think of each flavor as a person, and they're all mixed up in this bag, right? Well then we can relate this bag to…life, I guess. So you're living in life with all types of people. You experience lots of kinds, sour, sweet, lemon, orange, whatever. But after having all those samples of different kinds, you'll eventually find a flavor you like more…the best. That doesn't mean you don't like the rest, or don't want them around. Sometimes you'll want them just for a change in pace, you know? Maybe I'll eat cherry in between."

Ichigo stared at her. "I stand by my statement. You're retarded. I think I should stop leaving you alone with food. You'll start giving deep meanings to everything edible. What's next? 'Ooh I like spaghetti cause it reminds me of gothic Byakuya and his dreadlocks'"

"Retarded or not, you wanted to know why I have that habit. And _nii-sama_ does not have dreadlocks," she glared, returning to her reading. It was silent for a few minutes.

"Rukia?" Ichigo asked.

"….what now?"

"Who's your strawberry candy in your…er…bag of life?" He struggled to ask the words, feeling extremely un-manly.

"Probably you," she answered smoothly without hesitation. Silence.

"…Ichigo is the strawberry. Haha. The irony kills me, Rukia"

* * *

Eek! Not my favorite :[ I think I ruined it by throwing my effed up sense of humor in there. I will totally make the next IchiRuki better. D: 


	7. Savior

_Savior- __UlquiHime_

Somehow Inoue Orihime always managed to end up against the wall.

Being let outside her room was rare enough. But it was starting to become more of a curse than a privilege. On occasion, it was deemed necessary for her health to leave. Other times, she was called to Aizen-sama and then told she could go back to her room unescorted. Orihime wasn't bold enough to tell this powerful being she'd much rather be dragged back in chains than be left alone to be found by the vultures.

The first time happened when Ulquiorra told her that she could spend two hours exploring, but that she should watch herself because he would be 'keeping an eye on here'. Because of this confusing statement, Orihime spent ten minutes searching herself for hidden cameras.

It wasn't much of an exploration. Everything looked the same everywhere. Every hall, every ceiling, every floor tile…all white and blank. If anything, she felt this was making her health worse. Then _he_ found her.

If she could ever use the word hate, she'd use it on him. His very presence made her freeze up. Sometimes he'd 'pop in' during her meals along with Ulquiorra, which made swallowing so difficult that she'd end up choking at least twice before shoving it all down. He was a snake, a devil, a lusting perverted creep that she was helpless to stop. He was the 5th Espada, Noitora.

The hall she was walking at the time was poorly lit. Orihime didn't even realize it was a dead end until her nose nearly met the wall.

"Oh darn," she muttered, turning on her heels to literally come face-to-face with that smirk of his. Compared to Noitora's, Gin's looked like a smile.

"Gomen. I didn't notice you there. Uhm, you could point me back to my room? I think I'm lost," she asked nervously, noticing his horrible riatsu. Horrible, but strong. Definitely an Espada. An Espada that was way too close.

"Is poor little pet-sama lost? That's a shame. What if no one ever found her…?" He let the thought hang in the air. Orihime shivered involuntarily.

"And she's cold, too. You don't have great luck now, do you?" Noitora was unbelievably tall. He hung over her by at least two feet, looking down at her ominously. His smirk seemed to stretch by the second.

"I-I r-really h-have to go b-back to Ulquiorra-s-sama n-now," she stuttered, making an attempt to edge around him. He moved with her, lifting her up by her collar and holding her against the wall with his own body.

"A bit short, but I think you make up for that in…other areas," he observed, head considerabley closer now. Orihime couldn't move. Her whole body shook in fear. He leaned down, lips centimeters from hers. Just as they were about to touch, someone else entered the hallway.

"I suggest you tell me what you're doing there, Noitora. I don't seem to remember her being put under your care" The voice, monotone and emotionless as always, dissolved every ounce of hopelessness in her body. She didn't know why, but hearing him, despite knowing he was one of the most powerful arrancar here, made her feel safe.

Noitora leaned away and dropped her to the floor, sneering, then disappeared quickly. Orihime looked at Ulquiorra a few feet away then suddenly began to sob.

"Stop crying, woman. He didn't harm you" He picked her up much like Noitora did and set her on her feet.

"N-no! I'm h-happy!" she sniffed, wiping away a tear. "I mean, if you h-hadn't come I probably would've been…been…" the idea of what might've taken place made her cry harder.

"Useless human emotions. Stop degrading yourself and return to your room. I will bring you since you can't seem to manage otherwise," he turned and walked away, and Orihime hurried after him, afraid to repeat the situation again.

Noitora was never one to be easily discouraged, though. He came after her several times more. Every time she was alone, he was there, harassing her. He very nearly succeeded a time or two, as well. But every time Ulquiorra found her. Her black angel. Her friend amongst enemies. Her savior.

Somehow Orihime Inoue always managed to end up against the wall.

For some reason, Ulquiorra Schiffer was always there to help her down.

Perhaps it was because secretly she was his savior, too.


	8. Hunger

_Hunger- __GinRan_

_"Eat," he told her, holding the food to her lips. Her eyes moved to the side of her sockets to look at the stranger. She was too weak to turn her head. _

_Gin looked at the girl collapsed from hunger. She was pretty, no doubt. Behind the layers of grime, knotted hair and glazed, dull eyes there was definitely a beauty. But since when was he one to care about that? The fact she was on the verge of death from starvation, something souls like they shouldn't be exposed to, meant that this girl had real power, like he. __Power, not looks.__ That's what __Ichimaru__ Gin was looking for. _

_"You too?"__Soft and strained.__ A nonexistent breeze tousled her hair. _

_"Yeah, me too.__Ichimaru__ Gin. Nice to meet __ya__," he bent over and extended a hand. Somehow his met hers. He noticed she was warm, even this far gone. _

_"Gin…weird name".__ A whisper of a breath __escaped and her eyes closed,__ head rolling to the side to meet the ground. __Fainted.__ Gin picked her up and carried her, __which wasn't __hard to do. She was light._

_"Matsumoto….__Rangiku__," he swore she said, somewhere along the way back, though how was beyond him. _

Gin sat up abruptly in bed, staring down to where his hands gripped the edge of the sheets. He had been having this dream a lot lately, the dream of when they met. The reason why escaped him. Could it mean something?

Glancing to his side he found Rangiku, snuggled up comfortably against his side. Gin elbowed her gently until she woke.

"Hmm? What is it?" Only half-awake, she sat up as well, looking at him questioningly.

"Dontcha think you're gettin' a bit old ta' sleep with me, Ran? We ain't ten anymore. This bed can't hold us both no more," he sighed, no meaning behind his words. Sleeping next to her was one of the best things in the world, but it wasn't a good idea to take advantage of his friend who was so oblivious to the ways of hormones.

"You better not be calling me fat, Gin," she huffed, lightly falling to the floor. Gin grinned.

"Never in a million years, Ran," he said, following her example. They both went into their kitchen and sat.

"Hungry?" she asked him, trying to sleep a bit more on the table. He shook his head.

"Nope"

"You're the suckiest liar ever, I hope you know," Rangiku yawned, "just looking at you could make anyone believe you're a skeleton. And don't get me started on your skin tone"

Gin made a noise, blowing her off. It was true. He had shot up at least two feet in the last year with no horizontal growth to make up for it. Whenever she asked him if he was hungry, he'd say no. Whenever a meal was made, only half of his plate was finished.

Truth was, Ichimaru Gin was always hungry. But it certainly wasn't for food. Since the day he met her, this had been so. If he saw her, or came home to her, he felt hungry. Even if he ate everything in sight (as he had tried this once, just to get rid of it), it never went away. By now he was used to it, but by no means less aware of it. This hunger, or whatever it was, became his inward excuse as why not to eat.

The insatiable hunger, he knew, only wanted one thing. And that was the one thing wasn't willing to feed it.

Sometimes Gin wondered if Rangiku was going to make him starve to death.

* * *

A/N: Okay notice I said "hungry" not "horny" xDDD I'm not trying to hint at some constant want to rape her or something Oo; I mean what I mean. –nods resolutely-

Perverts! ;P


	9. All Wrong

_All __Wrong- __UlquiHime_

Orihime had a beautiful laugh. Since she had came to Los Noches, however, Ulquiorra noticed that he heard it less and less. There was something about that laugh that made something inside him stir, if only for a moment. He was sure that he would never hear a sound to match it.

When Ulquiorra laughed, it could hardly be called a laugh. It was more like a chuckle, or a really deep rumble that expressed his cruel sense of humor. This chuckle, gross as it was, was rare. But whenever a lowly numerous was decapitated in just the right way, Ulquiorra would laugh…and everyone would stare.

His laugh was nothing compared to hers. And he knew the way he wished to hear hers again was all wrong.

Orihime had an amazing smile. Since she had come to Los Noches, however, Ulquiorra noticed that they were no longer genuine and becoming more fake everyday. Sometimes instead of happiness they now displayed fear, insecurity or loneliness. But whenever she managed a real smile, it could brighten up a room like nothing else he'd ever seen. Sometimes he wondered if that was one of her fairy superpowers.

When Ulquiorra smiled, it was sadistic and twisted. It wasn't quite that toothy grin Grimmjow gave when he ripped the guts out of his 'prey'. It was more like a slight tug of his black lips upwards in one corner. But no matter how slight it may be, it was always menacing. There was nothing brightening about his smile. Ulquiorra's lips were not meant to make any such gesture. They screamed in protest at the motion.

His smile was nothing compared to hers. And he knew the way he wished to see hers again was all wrong.

Orihime had the softest skin. Since she had come to Los Noches, however, Ulquiorra noticed that her skin no longer had the same texture. Sometimes her hands felt rough and clammy, which alarmed him greatly. Was she becoming ill? But no. The next day they'd be normal. When her skin was hers again, whether she brushed you walking by or accidently touched your hand by taking something from you, it broke even the strong willed and made them consider some pretty nasty things. Something about the warmth and gentleness of that skin was torture.

When Ulquiorra touched anyone, they withdrew, alienated. But that wasn't a problem because Ulquiorra rarely touched a person except to impale them through the chest. His skin was rough and impenetrable as well as extremely cold. He might as well have been made of rock. If there was blood flowing in his veins, it didn't do anything except keep him alive.

His touch was nothing compared to hers. And he knew the way he wished to feel her again was all wrong.

Sometimes Ulquiorra would be forced to attend meetings for hours, while other times he was assigned to oversee some numerous mission. Boring and easy, his mind always drifted and he began to think of other things. Despite his desire for them not to be, other things usually referred to Orihime. Visits with her were always the most interesting parts of his day. He was almost growing to…look forward to them.

He was nothing compared to her. And he knew the way he wished to be with her was all wrong.


	10. Make A Wish

_Make __A__ Wish-__GinRan_

Gin was in pain. Anyone who looked at him wouldn't believe it, due to the fact he was always smiling. In fact, they might think he was incapable of feeling pain, period. But Rangiku wasn't anyone. She knew Gin much better than that. Every time he chuckled and ruffled her hair when she expressed her concerns to him, she could feel something else behind it. The smile was just a trick. He was hiding, and she was determined to find him.

She herself was an open book…not afraid to make her feelings known. This made it easier for Gin to hide from her. He knew exactly what to say to placate her when she ranted on about how he should stop worrying her to death. And Rangiku hated this.

"You. Me. Outside. Now," she told him, arms crossed against her (already large) chest. Gin looked up at her from where he was scribbling something and a ghost of a scowl crossed his face. But he stood and let her grab his arm and drag him outside.

"What's this all of a sudden, Ran?" he asked her, curious as to why she was angry and why they were leaving their home when it was a freezing, wet night.

"Just shut up and come," she instructed. He grunted, missing the sweet little pushover Rangiku.

"Lay," came the second command after they reached a slope lacking trees. She was sprawled on the ground already, he joining her a few seconds later. Stretched out like this, it became painfully obvious how much taller Gin was than her.

"I don't get it," he told her, after staring at the sky for a few minutes in silence.

"Nothing to get. We're stargazing," Rangiku said. Both their gazes returned to the sky.

"Shootin' star," He pointed a long finger at the gold object streaking across the sky.

"Make a wish," she whispered, closing her eyes for a minute. Gin copied her, if only to make her happy. It was rather childish, after all.

"Whadja wish for?" he asked her once she opened her eyes. She laughed quietly and punched him lightly on the arm.

"I'm not allowed to tell you. It won't come true"

"But what if I told ya what I wished for?" He tried to gamble, sincerely curious as to what she would wish for. Rangiku pondered the offer for a moment, then turned on her side to face him, head propped on her palm.

"I wished you'd tell me what you're thinking. I wished you'd open up to me and let me know how you _really _feel. We're supposed to be friends forever, you know" Her eyes were sad and sincere, her voice heavy with emotion. Gin flipped over on his side as well. Their faces were now inches apart.

"You're cryin' over me? I'm honored," he chuckled, shifting to set free a hand and cup her chin.

"Stop joking around, Gin! I'm serious!" She said harshly, angry and offended. The tears weren't intentional. Rangiku hated crying.

"I wish there was a way, Ran. Really, I do," he sighed, "but I'm not a touchy feely kind o' guy. I don't like talkin' 'bout how I'm feelin'"

"So?! That's not an excu-" she stopped when he opened his eyes, stunned for a moment. By now she was used to the sensation she got when he did, but had never experience them so close before.

There was so much in those eyes. Sadness, anger, shame and joy. If she was an open book, than there was no word for what his eyes were. So much lay beyond that icy blue pool, so clear and light they were almost white.

"You know," Rangiku said breathlessly, "they say your eyes are a gateway to your soul. Is that why you close them all the time Gin? Are you afraid of letting people see your soul?" She moved her head to let his hand drop, then lightly stroked his cheek in a way that set his skin on fire.

"You 're stupid, Gin. I don't care if you're an emotional wreck or if you cry. Just…don't be afraid anymore. I hate not knowing how you feel". She rolled back onto her back and returned to looking at the stars.

"Together forever…" he said aloud, startling her, "tha's what I wished for. That we'd be together forever, Ran"

He was punched in the arm again, this time harder.

"What a stupid wish," Rangiku told him, twirling a lock of her own hair, "we obviously are"

* * *

Whoo! Yay for the fluffiness! 8O Anyways, this is sorta an explanation as to why Gin smiles and…doesn't open his eyes all the time xDD Last chapter was an explanation to his weight (bulimia didn't seem very realistic ;P)

I'm having a hard time with IchiRuki :/ Blerghh. Hopefully some inspiration will come soon.


	11. Strength

No matter how many of these things I write, they never get out of my head! D: -dying from a lack of sleep- I don't know when I'll end this fic…but I'm having a damn good time writing it (putting aside the insomnia). ;3 Review!

…and I think I've been forgetting these, but Disclaimer: I do NOT own Bleach. Thank you

* * *

_Strength- __UlquiHime_

"Ulquiorra-sama?" Orihime asked from the couch. Standing at his post near the door, the Espada looked at the girl on the couch and grunted. She sat with a jar no more than two inches from her eyes, mouth set in a frown.

"Could you help me open this? Gomen…it just won't come off," she held it out in his direction, waiting expectantly. Ulquiorra sighed.

"God damn, woman. How Aizen-sama could want a girl who can't even open a _jar_ is beyond me," he growled, then snatched the jar away (attempting to avoid contact). The top broke off with little effort, though would now be unable to go back on. Orihime stared at the broken jar, dismayed. How in the world was she supposed to eat all those pickles? Without a top, they would get moldy and gross. And she couldn't let that happen. A hand reached in for a fat one.

"There was this one grocery store where I lived, you know. It had the most amazing pickles in the world. Well, actually I don't know that. I've never been outside of Japan…but anyways! They were sweet and sour at the same time and they were reallllyyy juicy! I mean one bite and I was in pickle heaven! Do pickles have a heaven? Hmmm…I wonder if I'll ever get to go back and eat one of those pickles," she rambled, using various hand gestures. Ulquiorra ignored most of it, finding half of the woman's words stupid, a fourth unrealistic and the other fourth…well, sometimes she _could_ be insightful. That was rare, though.

He did not, however, miss her last sentence. Turning back, he wrapped a hand around her wrist and pulled her up roughly from her seat. The half-eaten pickle fell to the floor.

"You will not go back. You will not leave Los Noches. Your body is for Aizen-sama and his ambitions. Say it!" He pushed her hand away with force and she stumbled. Her lip quivered for a moment, but she covered it up and recited the verse mechanically, face hard set with no visible emotion.

"I am not to return to Karakura town. I will not leave Los Noches. My mind, body and soul are for Aizen-sama and his ambitions, and his ambitions only"

Ulquiorra nodded shortly, then picked up her trays and left the pickles.

"I trust you will not do anything stupid with the glass on that jar. Otherwise I will have to restrain you arms and force feed you for the rest of your meals. That is a promise," he told her. Her jaw seemed to clench for only a minute, something sparking behind her eyes.

"I thank Ulquiorra-sama for his…concern for my safety," Orihime told him, then turned to disappear into the washroom. He took this chance and slipped out the door with her cart.

When he thought about what just transpired, he realized that no matter how many times the woman was forced to admit her slave status to Aizen-sama, her resolve never cracked. He admired this. Emotionally weak were the worst kind of trash.

He, on the other hand, was among the most physically strong in Los Noches. Yet comparing himself to her, he didn't seem anywhere near as resolute… especially since she arrived.

When put on a scale, Ulquiorra was sure that Orihime's strength far outweighed his own.


	12. Eyes

_Eyes- __GinRan__UlquiHime__IchiRuki_

When Gin looked in her eyes, he saw beauty. She was more than just good looks. Rangiku had an inner beauty that far outweighed her outer, though most other men would think that impossible. Gin knew, better than any man (seeing as they could usually care less about what was on the _inside _of her…unless it was them), what lay underneath. Intelligence, strong will and kindness- that's what he saw when he looked into her ice blue eyes.

When Ulquiorra looked Orihime straight in the eyes…or glared, really, he found himself drowning in what was there. No matter how she acted or how her face looked, her eyes could give her away. Sometimes he thought she knew that, which is why she averted her gaze quite often when he stared at them too long. There was loneliness and sadness, but warmth in her chocolate eyes that also couldn't be missed. It was a self-sacrificing kind of niceness she had. One that said 'I don't care if I die or get permanently scarred, as long as everyone else is okay'. He found that rather stupid. She was putting herself out there to be stepped on. Sure they'd say, 'Thanks for risking everything and saving me', but then they'd forget her later. But there was a certain nobleness to it, which is why Ulquiorra hated when Orihime looked away.

When Ichigo looked into Rukia's eyes, some unrealistic feeling always took over his body. It wasn't hormones, he decided. It was something more heavenly and spiritual. The color and boldness of her eyes alone stunned him, leaving him dazed when she turned them on him full blast. Sometimes his thoughts would scramble for a moment before linking back together again. Despite being a normally violent and stubborn person, Ichigo could see nothing but gentleness in her eyes. Which is why when they were in particularly nasty fights, he'd grab her shoulders and stare into the violet pools which defied everything that came out of her mouth. Then he'd smile, stop yelling, and walk off, leaving her confused and angrier than before.

When Rangiku looked into Gin's eyes, she saw a whole different being entirely. He was always calm and collected on the outside, which honestly scared her. No one could be that placid all the time. By looking in his eyes she could be rest assured that Gin did feel, and that was good enough for her. But they also held another purpose; they were his ultimate taboo. Whatever mood she was in, he could make her mood go his way, just by opening those goddamn eyes. There wasn't a bigger paradox than how she felt about them; Rangiku could hate them and love them at the same time. But after a time she grew tired of trying to figure out their mystery, and decided to let them just be that; a mystery.

When Orihime looked into Ulquiorra's eyes, she saw something other than coldness. They intrigued her, becoming her favorite thing to look at in Los Noches. Most everything was there was…white. But his eyes were a brilliant green. They were better than a sunset, she decided. Yes, definitely better than a sunset. And no matter how much she missed the sun and the range of colors it brought in the evening, she couldn't bring herself to deny this fact. Yet it wasn't just the color. What it was, she couldn't place. There was a certain sorrow behind his eyes that made her pity him. He retained so much, and the only way his inner self could send out an S.O.S was through those emerald orbs. Sometimes she'd smile gently at him as if to say, 'I can hear you, and I'm coming to help'. Ulquiorra would glare back.

When Rukia looked into Ichigo's eyes she found calmness. The confidence they emanated could always make her feel safe, despite the situation. They were reassuring and gentle- clashing with his personality entirely. Her belief was that his eyes were what got him friends. If they were anywhere near as rugged and tough as his appearance, nobody would say a word to him. Of that she was almost positive. As intimidating as he looked, those brown lakes could put you at ease that this guy was most definitely _not _a serial killer. Though it was a shame, Rukia thought, that he always had to hide them with those furrowed eyebrows of his.

* * *

Eep! Sorry if all this…profound…philosophical stuff bores you. I'll try to alternate between dialogue/action oneshots and…explanation oneshot. Deal? Kay ;D Reviewww! 

P.S. I honestly hate using the word orbs for eyes…it just sounds funky D8 –sticks out tongue- But there are no synonyms for eyes! Seriously dude!


	13. Soap

Holy crap! An IchiRuki fic! No wayyyy:OOO

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. And if anyone actually thought I did, I'd have to say you're an idiot (no offense) xDD

* * *

_Soap- __IchiRuki_

Ichigo and Rukia found themselves in a very compromising situation. First off, they were on the floor. Secondly, he was on top of her. And thirdly, she was wet….and naked.

Thinking back, he couldn't help but to blame it on that damn soap.

_"Well that was, __er__, messy," she said, opening the door to the Kurosaki house. Both their clothes were soaked in blood while their skin was nearly dyed by it. It was a simple Hollow extermination. Or rather, was supposed to be. It wasn't that it was hard to hit. It just took many, many stabs until the stupid thing went down. Of course that wasn't before it __bled__ all over them._

_"You can bathe upstairs. I'll use the one for hospital patients," he told her. She nodded, __then__ shivered before going up. The feeling of blood on skin wasn't pleasant._

_Ichigo could hear the water running next door as he went into his room to grab some clothes. __Top drawer- shirt.__ Middle drawer- pants. Bottom drawer- …empty. He cursed silently. No freaking boxers! He wasn't totally surprised. After all, his family h__ad gone on a short vacation (only__ after he had spent a long time weaving a fabulous tale as to why he couldn't go) and he had no clue as how to work the washing machine. Neither did Rukia. She offered to figure it out, but he refused profusely __while imagining a burning house or a neighborhood drowned in soap suds. _

_His final decision was to go and retrieve some boxers from the dirty clothes bin. Gross as it was, it wasn't like he peed in them or anything. Only one problem- the bin was in the bathroom. __The bathroom that Rukia was currently showering in.__Naked._

_Ichigo wasn't a pervert. He respected women in a rather cute virgin way (so __Yourichi__ told him). Rukia knew that, right? She wouldn't care if he quickly got them, right? Wait. Who said she had to know? He could sneak in there quietly and grab them before she even knew he'd been there. It was brilliant!_

_He tiptoed to the door and twisted the knob, listening carefully to see if she'd noticed yet. She hadn't. Ichigo saw his target the minute he was inside and started to make his way over towards it. His fingers gripped the lid. He opened it slowly and…_

_Squeak!_

_"Fuck," he muttered. A shriek echoed off the tiles in the small bathroom and he cringed._

_"ICHIGO YOU PERVERT!"_

_A small, white object flew through the curtain and hit him square on the back. Falling forward, he reached out to grab something. There was nothing. He remembered hitting the toilet. __Then darkness._

_"…Ichigo? Ichigo! __ICHIGO!"__ Rukia __yelled, suddenly worried. Ripping open the curtain, she stepped out dripping wet and leaned over him. _

_Prodding didn't work. Neither did elbowing. __Or slapping.__Or punching.__Or hitting violently with a toothbrush._

_"GOD DANGIT OPEN YOUR EYES, IDIOT!" she yelled in his ear. __Ichigo suddenly shot up straight, saw Rukia sitting on the floor without clothes, and __spazzed_

_"P-put some freaking clothes on, Rukia!" Covering his eyes he scrambled for the door. It wasn't a very good idea. His __foot hit the white block again and he slipped forward towards Rukia._

_"Ichigo __wha__-AH!" she put her arms out in front her to stop him from squishing her to nothingness. _

_He looked back to find the demon object. It was a bar of soap._

Face completely red, Ichigo close his lids tightly and faced his head towards an opposite wall. Try as he might, he couldn't ignore the fact that he was pressed against her with nothing between them but his own clothes.

Damn hormones. Damn nakedness.

And damn the soap.

* * *

Use your imagination to guess what happened next! 8O (hint: it wasn't sex -cough-) Effin pervies! ;P 


	14. Trash

_Trash- __UlquiHime_

"Trash," Ulquiorra muttered angrily, dragging Orihime's food cart behind him. It shook violently, threatening to collapse and take her lunch along with it. Metal could only withstand so much Espada manhandling.

"Who is?" she asked, turning away from the small single window and approaching him slowly. She was feeling especially brave that day.

He looked at her for a second, then gave the giant tray a shove into her arms. She retreated for the moment and went to the table like every other day. Orihime hated the fact it was so routine. It didn't seem as bad today, though...her prodding wasn't over with yet.

"I like the way you say that," she said thoughtfully, then swallowed. He stiffened, surprised by the comment.

"You like the way I insult people?" he questioned, staring at her incredulously. She responded with a curt nod.

"You don't phrase it as meanly as a lot of people. Like Grimmjow-sama. He calls people 'assholes' and 'shits'. It's really rude. I hate that kind of language," she explained.

Ulquiorra's eyes widened a bit when he heard cuss words escape her mouth. He didn't think she knew how to cuss. In fact, he had somewhat ridiculously theorized that she was actually incapable of letting such words escape her mouth. Something inside him didn't like the way they sounded when pronounced by her lips. They weren't made for that. They were made for several other things, a couple which he avoided thinking of.

"I use that language as well, though I don't find it quite as suiting. Those words only have an effect because they're 'vulgar' and 'crude'. Trash has a meaning. People who are trash do not deserve to live. Their very existence insults those of us with actual power"

Orihime frowned, inspecting the spoonful of soup that she held before her.

"But not everyone is trash," she insisted, putting the spoon back in the bowl and turning her full attention to Ulquiorra, "and just because someone is weak doesn't mean they don't deserve to live. Then most of the world would be dead"

"You're starting to see the point of our goal. By exterminating those that serve no purpose to our world, those who contribute nothing and are only a burden to those of us that do, we can live in a society of powerful beings and accomplish something even greater"

"…something greater?" Orihime asked, confused. "Like what?"

Ulquiorra was silent, truly confounded. Didn't he know the answer to this?

"And also," she continued, "if you just live with powerful people, eventually they'll all want more power. Everyone will end up fighting each other and exterminating themselves. Doesn't 'trash' keep a certain balance?"

He stood, rooted in his place. This woman had actually refuted everything with honest-to-god…logic. Was that truly possible? When he finally was able to look back at her, all her dishes were empty. Ulquiorra exhaled. Now he could leave this.

But before he was gone, Orihime stopped him with one final question.

"Besides, didn't you call me trash once, Ulquiorra-sama?" It was quiet, and somewhat sad. Ulquiorra felt his hole burning, arms shaking noticeably as they held the handle of the cart.

_Yes, _he thought, _and I regret__ that__ more everyday. _


	15. Mistletoe

_Mistletoe-__GinRan_

Her laughed echoed across the silent white landscape. Fragile evergreen branches trembled from the noise, and small flakes of snow fell to join the inches of it covering the ground. Rangiku had never believed it before, but things really were more beautiful at Christmas time.

Gin followed her, smiling softly. She hadn't giggled that way in a while. Not since they had become teenagers. Their footsteps in the snow were all that could be heard in their little forest. Oh, and Rangiku. But that wasn't anything new.

Cold as it got, it rarely ever snowed. It froze plenty, but she didn't find much fun in icicles. Only Gin could, thinking about the deadly aspect of the frozen daggers.

Appealing as weapons were, even he had to admit icicles were nothing compared to this. This was _snow._

She twirled around to face him, stopping in her tracks. She spread her legs out, held out her arms and closed her eyes. Gin watched with an eyebrow lifted in mild curiosity.

Rangiku fell back onto her back and laughed as her arms and legs moved up and down and side to side. Powdered snow flew everywhere. After a minute of persistent flailing, she finally stood with caution and inspected her work. The result? A perfect snow angel.

_How fitting,_ Gin couldn't help but to think, standing back and observing. Playing wasn't really his thing. Watching her play was entertaining enough, though.

"Gin! We should go rolling down the slope!" she almost yelled, bounding up to him and grabbing his hand. He looked down at her face, tinged pink with excitement. Her eyes sparkled even more than normal.

Honestly…how could he say no?

"Ran, I think I'll let ya' do the rollin'" he told her, eyeing the snowy descent with little fondness.

"Don't be a party pooper! It'll be fun, I swear!" Rangiku dropped to the ground and lay on her side, arms folded across her chest. She looked up at him expectantly. He sighed.

"On three," she instructed, starting to shift a little to her right, "One…Two…Three!"

Overly eager, she took off before him, bouncing down and watching in delight as snow stuck to her like a giant snowball. She laughed louder than ever. When the slope ended, she felt a little disappointed, but still never stopped smiling. Everything was just too…perfect.

Her head turned to see how Gin was faring and was met by his jacket when he tumbled towards her and landed right on top of her. She laughed harder.

"I'm so-" she struggled to gain composure, but a glance at his dazed face set her off again, "-sorry, Gin!"

"It was, uh, fun, Ran. Don't worry 'bout it," he smiled, grateful for the warmth she was giving him. Neither of them found the position awkward at all.

Moments later, some force drew them to move their eyes upwards at the same time. Upon the end of a bare, frozen branch above them hung a sprig of mistletoe.

"Well ain't that a coinci-" He was stopped when Rangiku grinned, then shifted from underneath him to stretch up and capture his mouth with hers.

He responded all too enthusiastically, their mouths moving with each others' in something far more long-lasting and meaningful than the peck she'd been given so long ago by the stream. He noticed that her lips were warm despite the exposure to the cold for the last hour or so. She noticed his lips were soft and gentle, and they molded together with hers perfectly.

She broke it soon enough, sighing in exhaustion and happiness. He rolled off of her and lay at her side, also feeling extremely happy, but slightly frustrated that it couldn't have lasted longer.

"Merry Christmas, Gin," Rangiku told him quietly, staring up at the grey sky.

"Merry Christmas, Ran"

* * *

Rangiku totally had to make that move. I would hate myself if I kept making Gin do everything 8K -gushes over the fluffiness of it- 

….I'm such a rabid fangirl…who surprisingly like writing make-out scenes :DDD


	16. Heartache

Really no inspiration right now 8( Depressed that school starts in three days. Seriously. Summer ending. No more shopping. No more watching tv. No more sleeping 'til one. I'll try to dish out as many more of these as I can before it does, though. I'm honestly not sure when I'll post next after that. X[

This idea was rather…uhm…sudden. It occurred to me at 5 am. No joke. (do you understand how screwed up I'm gonna be for school? Dx). I'm not really sure if what makes sense then does now, but I /do/ like the concept, even if it is a bit OOC/unrealistic. This probably takes place during the arrancar arc…before Ichigo's vaizard training. Like I said, this stuff ain't chronological ;3 Pft. Anyways.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.

* * *

_Heartache- __IchiRuki_

When Ichigo first kissed Rukia, it came as a shock to both of them. Neither expected it, neither particularly wanted it at that moment (though they wouldn't deny they liked the idea), and neither was very into it when it happened. This could be partially blamed on the fact that Ichigo wasn't quite…himself in that moment.

A nasty battle had just occurred between him and a strong Numeros. Even when using Bankai, Ichigo had a tough time. But it wasn't his fault, he insisted, because there was an evil hollow inside just waiting for the perfect moment to possess his body and do who knew what the hell with it. That was a good enough excuse as to why he wasn't winning, right?

Ah. If only the Numeros had the same logic.

Eventually he found himself driving the Arrancar back. They were both bloody by this time, Rukia watching from the sidelines worriedly. Now for the final attack- a black Getsuga. That was definitely powerful enough to turn him to dust, and was a flashy enough finale. Yes, it was perfect…

..until the one dubbed as 'Shirosaki' decided to pay Ichigo a visit. Blackness crept into his eyesight, despite valiant efforts to fight it. His body beginning to fill with that uncontrollable urge to fight…and rip enemies to shreds.

With several violent slashes to the head, the Numeros fell back, mask shattered and body mangled beyond recognition. Somehow Ichigo was always aware of what his hollow side was doing, but was helpless to stop any of it.

It was grotesque. But he was dead. And that was all that mattered.

A subconscious Ichigo waited for the feeling to finally recede. His hollow wanted to fight, right? That's all. Now that the fight was over, what did he want? Why wasn't he going back? Ugh. Damn him.

Just as Ichigo prepared to rebel, he felt his body moving.

Rukia, standing with her hand frozen on her zanpakuto's hilt could only watch as he approached her. She wasn't stupid; she knew who this was…rather, _what_ this was. And it scared her to know he still wasn't gone. Perhaps she'd been a fool to believe Ichigo had decent control over his inner side.

The tall yellow-eyed figure bent down to eye level with Rukia. She could see the blood on his face and cringed. Blood wasn't uncommon for her…but on that particular quarter-masked face, it was a chilling sight.

And then he kissed her. It was short, rough, but not very passionate. She didn't respond, and he didn't urge her to. After all, since when was a hollow a romantic? He'd straightened up before Rukia could even completely register what happened.

_What the fuck?! _Ichigo lashed out at his other self, beginning to force his arm to reach under edges of the mask. His hollow laughed, letting him.

"I'm sorry, Rukia," he told her, once back to himself. His guilt was overwhelming. "I mean, I knew he was a controlling son of a bitch, but not a lusting freak. I thought the taking over the world idea was more his thing"

She couldn't help but to laugh at his face. He scowled.

"What? I don't really find this funny!" he insisted, looking away.

"Neither do I, but I don't find this as serious as you do, either," she sighed, then starting walking away, "come on. Let's go."

_Why?_ Ichigo asked his hollow later, sitting on his bed in his room alone. He found that contact with the being wasn't entirely impossible.

_I told you I'd be in trouble if you died_, he reminded Ichigo with that lopsided grin.

_That doesn't make any sense. __I wasn't seriously injured or anything! __I was about to kil__l it! What was I in danger of dying of? _

_Heartache, _it came, as though it was the simplest answer in the world.


	17. Dance

Whoah. So it's been like a week :/ Sorry for the delay. First week of school usually sucks, especially when you're sleeping in class due to sleep depravation. Dx Uhm. Three day weekend…hopefully I can dish out a few more shorts. I really have no clue how long this will end up. I could end it at like twenty five or stop at fifty. –shrugs-

* * *

_Dance- __IchiRuki_

Ichigo had a theory.

He believed that when Rukia was human, however long ago _that_ was, she was a dancer. It sounded like a rather stupid thought, but he was nearly convinced that it was so. If you watched her for a day, he was sure anyone else would think the exactly same thing.

All her movements were fluid, everything she did flowing together beautifully. Her steps were always light and graceful. And she was the only one who could make a fight beautiful.

In truth, Ichigo never minded letting Rukia have a go at an arrancer. When Rukia had her zanpakuto, it was like she was performing some elaborate ribbon dance. The sword itself was gorgeous, but with its' owner it was breathtaking. Her fights weren't gory and disgusting. They were like a ballet.

Yes, that was it. A ballet. Whenever Rukia fought, Ichigo watched her perform her ballet. It was more amazing than anything some professional dancer could do. The best show on earth-and he had free tickets.

The finale was always the best part. When the hollow disappeared, showers of sparkling ice pieces rained down upon her. She would turn, her hair brushed back lightly by a breeze, and her eyes would blaze with victory, all the while ice confetti would fall around her. Sode No Shirayuki would wave once more as she brought it back to join its' pure white sheath. And then she'd walk away as if she wasn't remotely aware of just what beauty she created.

Rukia Kuchiki was a lot of things. She was short, bossy, stubborn, violent, self-destroying and Chappy-obsessed.

But most importantly, she was a dancer.


	18. Pretend

-starts to sing-

Whereeee ohhh whheerrree hasss myyy inssspiraaatttiiionnn goneeee? Oh wheerrreee oh wheerrree coulddd itttt beeeeeee?

* * *

_Pretend-__UlquiHime_

"Why do you always look out that window?" Ulquiorra asked her one day. Orihime was always standing bent over by the window when he came in, elbow on the windowsill and chin rested on her palm. He looked for tears- there were none. In fact, there was nothing on her face. She just…stared. That's what made it so disturbing.

She answered without hesitation, but didn't turn away from the window.

"I'm remembering how things used to look outside my curtains at home. I miss a lot of things- sunsets, sunrises, birds, clouds, the grass, the trees…" she went on, even going so far as to say she missed the garbage men.

"Woman, must I remind you of your pledge to Aizen-sama? I will make you say i-" he told her, before he was interrupted.

"Hai, Ulquiorra-sama. I have not forgotten my promise. You asked me a question and I answered it. I am not thinking of running or returning," she assured him with a sigh, suddenly feeling extremely lonely. For a moment she actually thought he might understand. Orihime slid her hand out from underneath her chin and dropped it lightly onto the windowsill with her other arm. Her head leaned forward until her head was nearly touching the glass. It fogged up from her soft breaths.

"I miss the stars the most," she added a moment later, out of the blue. He looked at her strangely.

"Los Noches has stars, woman. Or do you have seeing problems?" He waved a hand nonchalantly at the faint lights that speckled the sky.

"No. Those aren't stars. I mean, they look like them, but they're definitely not stars," she insisted quietly, finally walking away from the window entirely and sitting on the couch.

"How absurd. They aren't lanterns or pixies or whatever you're fantasizing them to be. They are, without a doubt, stars. There is no other term for it," Ulquiorra said, annoyed.

"I can't explain it, but those aren't the same stars I see out my window. The stars I see are warm and happy. The stars I see I can wish on and feel like it'll come true. I know my stars well- I talked to them when my brother died. I've tried talking to these…it isn't the same"

"Blind and crazy…This matter is obviously deteriorating your mental health. I must see to it that this window is removed," he sighed, turning to leave. Orihime jumped from the couch, frantic.

"No! Ulquiorra-sama, please! I mean no offense to everything Aizen-sama has given to me, but without that window I'd have nothing but walls to look at. I _need _it!" she objected vehemently. He rolled his eyes.

"This is only furthering my opinion that you are losing all sanity, woman. And stop those pitiful protests," He reached for the handle, only to be stopped by a warm set of fingers that wrapped themselves around his wrist. She stood in front of him, looking him in the eyes. They were determined and sad at the same time.

"Please," she whispered, guiding his hand away from the handle with hers. Her gaze didn't drop. Ulquiorra felt frozen and didn't know why.

"You just said," he told her, having to take a few seconds to make sure his mouth could form the words without stuttering, "that the stars in Los Noches were not your stars. So why do you want that window?"

Orihime smiled gently then laughed lightly.

"Because," she said, "I can always pretend"

* * *

Hm. So this is mostly cutesy fluffly drabble crap right now. I'm sorry. I love writing make outs as much as the next girl, but I'm also not a tard who makes people who have no relationship base at all or even a personality connection suddenly overcome all previous feelings or loyalties to other people and jump each other and start having sex. That would be interesting…but not what I'm gonna do ;P 

I will work up to kissing, etc (even planning something way deeper than that for another couple) later, once I figure out the perfect and most realistic way for pairings like IchiRuki and UlquiHime to finally do that kind of thing. But look at it like this- with this much building up, it makes the kiss more exciting when it comes! ;D (and frankly, when every oneshot ends in a kiss, things get boring after a while)


End file.
